


Red Paint

by LaBelleetlaloup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, Gen, POV Stiles, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleetlaloup/pseuds/LaBelleetlaloup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sort of missing scene from right after season two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Paint

Stiles had made her way to the burnt Hale House the day after Lydia’s “love” had saved Jackson. She wasn’t sure how much she bought that, despite having seen Jackson change back at the sight of a key in Lydia’s hand. She had known him a long time and she had never thought the pair trusted one another, so how could their love be strong enough, pure enough, to break through whatever it was exactly that had gone wrong with Jackson? He was still ignoring her at school, real shocker, so she was hoping he was spending time with his alpha and she could check up on him and see where Derek and Scott had gotten off to the night before while she and Lydia were facing down Jackson alone. There had to have been something important to pull Scott away from watching Jackson like he promised, since Allison had dumped him. It had nothing to do with the dress Stiles was wearing for the first time that made her feel pretty. She was not trying to look nice for Derek. Don’t be ridiculous.

The old house looked empty when she got into the clearing and Stiles groaned. Well, there went a half-hour hike from her house. She would have to hike back too. Maybe they were all at that train car again. Why couldn’t damn werewolves be easier to get ahold of? Surely most of them had cell phones, so why did she still not have anyone’s number except Scott’s? (Well, she had Lydia’s and Allison’s, but they were not useful for finding Derek.)

“Anybody home?” Stiles called out, not really expecting an answer as she crossed to sit on the porch to rest for a minute before she made herself hike back home. Shockingly, there wasn’t an answer. Stiles was going to sit on the steps when she heard what sounded like an argument inside. She wavered at the foot of the steps for a minute, seeing for the first time the wet, red paint on the door. The door had literally just been painted; it still stank up close and was clearly glistening wet. Someone had to be there, it was male voices, and it was unlikely that hunters would have painted the door: too much smell and bother. So something was up with the grumpy wolves. Stiles decided she was going inside. She knocked on the doorframe and carefully let herself in.

Suddenly she was slammed up against the open door, feet swinging in the air, wet red paint in her head and on her dress, and burning red eyes in front of her and fangs and claws at her neck. Stiles couldn’t breathe for terror. For a long moment, she didn’t even recognize the snarling Alpha as Derek. Then confusion flooded through as well. What was wrong with Derek?

“How dare you?” Derek growled. His fangs were bared in a threat.

“What happened?” Stiles managed to gasp out. What was going on?

“I think she might not know,” Peter commented. “I wouldn’t have put the plan past her, but it seems not to have been hers. She wouldn’t have been stupid enough to show up here.”

“What plan?” Stiles asked. Derek loosened his grip enough to let her feet touch back down on the ground and her chest felt less like she was about to hyperventilate during a panic attack. She took a shaky breath, looking over to the shadows where Peter’s blue eyes were shining at her. There was a long moment before anyone spoke. They were all looking at one another uncertainly. No one knew where the others stood. Stiles was completely lost.

“What do you think Scott was doing last night?” Derek asked.

“Statements only, no rhetorical questions or sarcasm,” Peter added. “We want to make sure you’re telling the truth.” Stiles felt a spike of adrenaline as she held back a shriek of terror. Dear God, what had Scott done?

Stiles took a breath before she started talking, taking care not to babble. “I don’t know what he was doing. I went and got Lydia, like everyone had planned, and we got Jackson back to normal, at least temporarily. He’d told me he was going to keep an eye on Jackson-as-the-kanima, but clearly that wasn’t true because Jackson was not where we left him.”

“She didn’t lie,” Peter stated. “And those are simple, clear, difficult to misunderstand statements.”

“You never had any agreements with Gerard about anything?” Derek insisted. Stiles shook her head.

“No. He hit me.” Stiles was going to keep talking in her short bursts of words that seemed to have calmed the wolves, but Peter cut her off.

“He hit you?” he growled.

“Yeah, while they had Erica and Boyd, they picked me up for a few hours. and he hit me. Why would I work with him?” Peter made a soft growl. Oops, that was a rhetorical question.

“Scott was working with him,” Derek answered. At least he seemed calmer, though she still had claws by her neck.

“What?” Scott had done what? Gerard was evil! Her eyes were probably bugging out of her head. God, that had to be an attractive look.

“Okay, you didn’t know,” Derek took a step back and let go. His eyes went back to their normal hazel and he shifted back to human.

“What did Scott do, exactly?” Stiles demanded. She was not going to let this go. Clearly he had done very wrong.

“They…” Derek trailed off and shook his head. Stiles turned to Peter. What had happened?

“They used kanima venom on Derek so Gerard could get the bite to cure his cancer. Scott rudely informed Derek that he was never his alpha,” Peter explained, voice entirely devoid of emotion. Stiles blinked for a long moment. That had not been Scott’s plan, though she knew Scott would agree to that. He had never liked Derek, though she had thought he was better with him after accepting him as Alpha. Clearly that hadn’t been true-hearted. Gerard wouldn’t have necessarily known that kanima venom was paralytic and Scott didn’t plan that far ahead. A smile spread across her face. She could work with this.

“So, are we killing Scott or Deaton?” she asked blithely. Peter grinned at her, all teeth and gleaming blue eyes.

“Deaton?” Derek asked. His brow was furrowed in confusion.

Stiles explained her thought process for him: “There wasn’t anything in the Argent bestiary about kanima venom being paralytic so it’s unlikely Gerard would have known by himself. Scott would totally go along with a plan like that but I doubt he’d have the forethought to make the plan himself. But Scott listens to Deaton, right? Deaton planned it.”

“I don’t like him,” Peter agreed. “I vote we kill both of them. Just in case. Then we hunt down Gerard.”

“Did it take, do you know?” Stiles asked. “That’s a good piece of information to have. If he’s already dead…” We could just leave him for dead, she didn’t say.

“He’s not dead. He’s still sick though,” Derek grumbled. “I can feel him.”

“Oh god, he’s technically your Beta!” Stiles gasped. The full weight of what had been done hitting her. She’d been upset about Scott using Derek and Derek’s body, but this had permanent consequences beyond Derek never trusting Scott again.

“And we aren’t killing anyone.” Derek stated firmly.

“But Derek!” Stiles and Peter protested together, sharing a startled glance at being in sync.

“What about the damn other pack, Peter? You think it’s a good idea to kill Deaton and Scott with them running around and Erica and Boyd gone and the Argents still here?” Derek demanded. Stiles saw a flash of fear pass over his features before he straightened up, standing tall with a stoic expression and red eyes.

“Erica and Boyd left?” Stiles sank back against the door. Her new dress was a lost cause anyway.

“That was last night too,” Peter explained. “They renounced the pack and left. Just took off into the woods. The prognosis is not good.”

“And what other pack?” she asked quietly, dreading the answer.

“There’s at least another alpha here, because I didn’t bite Victoria Argent and an Alpha werewolf did. It feels like another pack is in the territory, though probably a small-ish one.” Derek explained.

“Dear god, we’re all going to die,” Stiles murmured.

“I’m going to be conveniently out of town when the reckoning arrives, you can come with,” Peter offered. “I do like you.”

“I might take you up on that. We’ve got two betas and a zombie wolf against some pack that feels strong enough to cross into claimed territory with the Argents still on a murderous rampage.” Dear god… She was going to die a virgin. What was her life?

“This probably won’t end well,” Derek agreed.

“You wanted something, when you arrived,” Peter commented mildly. “What was it?” Clearly he was done with the subject of doom.

“Jackson was ignoring me all day at school and I didn’t want to make a scene so I was hoping he’d be with his alpha so I could see that he hadn’t reverted back to the lizard thing.”  
“Obviously, he isn’t,” Derek scoffed. “He’s probably with Lydia.” That was Scott, Stiles barely kept herself from saying. No one would appreciate it today.

“That’s not all you wanted.” Peter cocked his head to the side and pushed Derek a little farther from her as he took a step forward. Stiles had no idea how Derek had been in his line of sight anyway, but now Peter was crowding her against the door, probably smelling her. She made herself meet his eyes. Then he smiled at her. “What a shame that pretty new dress is ruined. It really brings out your eyes, doesn’t it Derek?” He glanced over at his nephew for the barest moment with a smirk. “We’ll have to reimburse you for it. You can’t bleach taupe, or is this properly beige? Regardless, I doubt that paint will come out.”

“I got it off the clearance rack, so there’s that, at least,” Stiles replied carefully. Peter was freaking her out. “Are you going to rebuild the house?”

“No, why?” Derek asked.

“You painted the door,” Stiles answered.

“The door had been compromised,” Peter grumbled, one side of his face creasing in a quick snarl. Stiles raised her brows in a silent question. Peter harrumphed and turned away. Derek answered.

“The other pack carved their symbol on the door. I wasn’t going to leave it.” Stiles nodded. That made sense.

“Well, I should get home. I’ve got red paint all over and Jackson isn’t here anyway,” Stiles edged out the door a little. Derek reached out with a clawed hand and cupped her cheek. There was a question of some sort in his eyes. “What?”

“You’re still pack?” he asked quietly. Stiles nodded firmly.

“I’m still pack,” she affirmed, tilting her head to expose her neck. Peter made a soft noise but her eyes were on Derek. He gently drew his claws down her neck, carefully not breaking the skin. He had that same hurt-broken expression he’d had after she nearly drowned to save him and told him she didn’t think werewolves were an abomination that she’d tentatively classified as shocked by something good he had never expected. Stiles had thought a gesture of submission seemed timely.

“You shouldn’t walk home alone,” Derek decided. Stiles had no issue with that. Was he offering?

“I’ll take her. You’re better at dealing with this paint smell than I am and I should bond with my pack mate, right?” Peter interrupted. Stiles and Derek both startled. What in the world? “Besides, I’m a little more inclined to start with lethal force and we have an unknown but confident trespassing pack and Hunters out in the woods.” Derek nodded. He was letting his uncle walk her home. Lovely.

“Alright,” Stiles agreed. It was best to concede gracefully. She took a step towards Derek and stretched up, pressing a wet kiss to his jaw. Derek startled and for a second, he smiled. Then he leaned down and mirrored the action. Peter carefully put a hand on her back, probably on a spot without paint, and led her off the porch and into the woods. It was a silent walk. Stiles had little to say to Peter and he either had nothing to say or didn’t know how to say it. They were nearly to Stiles’ backyard before Peter spoke up.

“You’re good for him.”

“Derek?”

“Yes. He’d probably say yes if you asked him, but he doesn’t think he deserves you,” Peter continued. Stiles looked up at him, taken aback. “He is my nephew as well as my alpha and I want the best for him. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Who killed Laura?” Stiles countered. Peter winced.

“I’ll admit, I don’t have a great memory of that time frame but I don’t think it was me.” He tried for something probably at least resembling the truth.

“It does look like a Hunter kill, but I’m sure there’s been copy-cats of the other side’s style to cover up guilt for a long time,” Stiles replied. “I don’t really trust you. Don’t talk to me about Derek.”

“As you will,” Peter agreed. Stiles suppressed a shudder. Those words had weight to them, weight she didn’t want. She darted away from Peter in the safety of her backyard and hurried inside. She had to at least try to salvage the dress before she threw it away and she needed a shower before the paint crusted in her hair. How had this become her life? One day she was nearly running over a childhood friend turned lizard-thing and the next she was getting dating advice from a zombie werewolf who happened to be the guy she liked’s uncle on the way home after her crush had pinned her up against a door with wet paint. What was her life?


End file.
